Angelina Jolie or How House Got a Therapy Skunk
by alanwolfmoon
Summary: Written for Phate Pheonix before the s6 premier aired. Title pretty much explains it.


"So how has your first week been?"

House grunted in reply, trailing a finger through his psychiatrist's zen garden.

"I take it it didn't go as well as you had hoped?"

He grunted again, and Dr. Nolan noticed that he was tracing a motorcycle in the sand, with the two smooth stones for wheels, and rolled his eyes, "Greg. Pay attention."

House raised his eyes, "what?"

"How did your first week go?"

House sighed, leaning back in the chair after obliterating his drawing with a sweep of his palm, "what do you want me to say? Wilson already told you I had a panic attack as soon as I stepped into my office, had another one when I saw Cuddy, had another one having lunch with Foreman. And that the same thing happened the next day. And the next day. And, oh, the next day, and the day after that! I heard him telling you over the phone. The bathroom door isn't nearly as soundproof as he seems to think it is. You know my week sucked."

"Did you try to use the tools we discussed for dealing with emotional stress?"

House glared, "no, I decided I'd try and build up to another psychiatric breakdown. 'cause this last one was just so much fun."

"Greg."

House sighed, turning his attention back to the little square of sand.

"Greg, listen to me."

"Believe it or not, I'm capable of listening without having to look at you."

"Fine. I'm going to prescribe an emotional support animal."

House dropped the little wooden rake and looked at Nolan, "excuse me?"

"A dog, or a cat, most often. Other people prefer a snake, bird, miniature horse, or even a goat."

House stared, "you're not serious. Do I look like some autistic kid?"

"No, Greg. You look like an adult recovering from a serious episode of emotional and mental illness, who is experiencing debilitating anxiety attacks with the onset of emotional stress."

House turned back to the zen garden, pushing the stones around rather aggressively with the little rake.

"Greg. Are you getting stressed right now?"

House grunted.

"You're ashamed."

House shrugged.

"You shouldn't be."

House shrugged again.

Nolan rested his chin on his palm, watching his patient.

"You could annoy your coworkers with it."

House raised his eyes, for the first time looking like he wasn't completely shutting Nolan out.

---

Wilson looked up, as his friend came out of the psychiatrist's office.

"Well? Did you tell him how things went?"

House rolled his eyes, "like lying would have done any good when you tattled before the week was even up."

Wilson sighed, shaking his head, and walking with his friend out and down the steps of Mayfield, "I didn't... tattle... I was concerned."

House shook his head, not so much disagreeing, as calling an end to the discussion.

Wilson shut up, knowing better than to push an issue House didn't feel comfortable discussing.

Foreman had pushed on when and if House would be getting his licence back, and that had triggered the anxiety attack in the hospital cafeteria–full on heart palpitations, hyperventilation, and tears.

Wilson has tried to be with his friend as much as he can, for those situations, where House might easily get stressed into another anxiety attack, but he can't be his friend's constant companion, no matter how much he wishes he could.

"He said I should get a emotional support animal."

Wilson blinked, looking at his friend, as he got into the drivers seat, and House got into the passenger side.

"He did?"

House nodded, running a hand through his hair.

"Are you going to?"

House looked out the window, for a little bit, then back at his friend, "I guess. I'm really getting sick of freaking out."

Wilson nodded, slowly, "okay. A dog... or a cat?"

"I don't know."

Wilson nodded again, "okay. We could stop at the humane society on the way home. Just... you know, to look, and whatever. Help you figure it out."

House glanced at his friend.

"Wilson."

"What?"

"Stop treating me like a I'm mentally retarded."

"Sorry."

"Just stop."

"'kay."

---

About ten minutes later, though, House spoke again, "that's a good idea, though."

Wilson nodded, "okay."

Half an hour later, they were standing in the Mercer County Human Society pound, and House was looking around the front office, seemingly reluctant to approach the very pink-clad woman sitting at the desk.

Someone, a teenage girl in a ponytail and cargo pants, came over, and spoke, cheerily, snapping her gum between words, "you looking for a cat or a dog, or a bird, or what?"

"Uh, trying to figure that out," said Wilson, nodding to House, who was looking at a flyer, though his eyes weren't moving.

She smiled, "you two ever had a pet before?"

Wilson looked at House again, but his friend didn't seem about to have anything to do with the cheerful girl, "I had a dog, but it's for him, and he hasn't had a pet besides a rat."

"Well, we've got a few gerbils and a ferret."

House finally decided he was going to actually do this, and shook his head, "no... somebody'd probably step on them."

Wilson nodded "uh, right."

He looked back at the girl, "we were kind of hoping just to meet some animals to figure out the answer to that question."

She smiled, "no problem," and led them into a hallway.

As soon as they walked into the part where the cat cages were, Wilson started to sneeze, eyes watering so much he couldn't see to get out of the room.

A hand gripped his arm, and he followed its tugging, bending over double as soon as they stopped.

Once he had finished coughing and sneezing and sniffing, he straightened, and found House looking at him, extremely amused.

"I think a cat is probably a bad idea," he said, smirking.

Wilson nodded, sheepishly, rubbing his eyes.

The girl handed him a tissue.

House decided he didn't want to have to walk a dog, and though Wilson offered to do it for him, they passed the dog kennels without really looking.

There was a third room, with random animals in it.

A sudden grin appeared on House's face, and Wilson followed his line of sight to...a... skunk.

A baby skunk, curled up in a mess of towels.

"No."

"They take the stink glands out," supplied the girl, helpfully.

"House."

"You'll have to get a permit," said the girl, "this guy's been here a while, but they're more sociable if they grow up with a person."

House had knelt by the cage, and the little creature, which was about the size of House's forearm, sniffed at House's finger.

House looked up at Wilson, and Wilson realized he was actually serious.

He blinked a little, slowly.

Then looked at the girl, "this one doesn't spray?"

She nodded, "they take the stink glands out when they're four weeks old. This guys's about two and a half months."

She knelt, and opened the cage.

The creature walked out, sniffed House's hands, knees, feet, crawled onto his lap, sniffed at his clothes.

"They're really smart, this one's pretty mischievous, but it's also kind of clingy. Its owner didn't have the time to make sure it ate right, so they gave it up."

Proving her point, it crawled under House's T-shirt, and House had to gently ease it out after a while, so he could get up.

He looked at Wilson again, and Wilson smiled.

If the point of whatever animal House got was to help him deal with stress and anxiety attacks, the look he'd had on his face when the skunk crawled up under his shirt was enough for Wilson.

House had to get a permit, and find a vet, and read up on what to feed it, but three weeks later, Wilson drove him to the humane society to pick it up.

House's fridge was probably stocked with the most amount of fruit and vegetable it had had in it since it was purchased.

Really, reflected Wilson, driving his friend home, with the newly acquired creature snuggled on House's lap, its huge plume of a tail curled around so its face was almost hidden, making little squeaking sounds as House scratched its neck, which it seemed to like, this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Of course, that was before he realized House would be taking the creature–House named her Angelina Jolie, but soon just started calling her Jo–to work with him.

Which was stupid, really, because that was the whole point of House getting an animal.

Thankfully, Jo didn't mind a leash, or being carried.

And she seemed to have taken to House quite fiercely, actually, barely leaving him alone, and only then to go explore, get into trouble, come back, and curl up on his lap again, having successfully scratched up some piece of furniture, missed her litter box, or done some other bit of mischief.

House had had her two weeks when she figured out how to open the refrigerator.

Wilson, who was living with his friend, for now anyway, was happy to find that at least she wasn't mischievous in her sleep. She crawled into her little den in House's bedroom, and slept through the night, never bothering Wilson, who slept on the couch.

---

House grinned, as he limped into the differential room with Jo, for the first time.

Foreman looked up, groaned, and shook his head, "you're not serious."

House smirked, widely, "dead serious."

Taub looked up from his paper, and practically jumped out of his chair, "House! What the hell are you thinking?"

House snorted, as Jo climbed up, onto his shoulder, sticking her head down the back his collar curiously.

Thirteen, smiled a little.

Foreman shook his head again, "seriously, House. I don't care, but if Cuddy sees you with that..."

House snorted, "don't worry. I've got a prescription."

Taub raised an eyebrow, "you have a prescription for a skunk?"

House grinned, "cool, isn't it."

He sat down at the table.

Cameron came in, then, holding a file, "I've got a patient–ah!"

She stopped, blinking.

Jo raised her head out of House's collar, turning to look at the source of the noise at the same time as House did.

Cameron blinked, at the identical expressions on the two faces, shook her head, and handed Foreman the file, "patient... in the ER.... presenting with haemolacria..."

"Bloody tears?" asked House, blinking, as he lifted the skunk off his shoulder and into his lap, "their name Le Chiffre?"

Foreman rolled his eyes.

Cameron blinked, "what?"

House stared at her, "you can not be serious."

She shook her head and walked out.

House turned to watch the differential.

He wasn't really allowed to do anything, until he got his licence back, but he hung around, some, suggesting ideas, and slowly easing back into the medical world.

As soon as the fall semester started, he was also supposed to teach a class at the medical school.

He was pulling his life back together...slowly.

He closed his eyes, briefly, as he felt some of the familiar tinge of anxiety rising up, opened them, and looked down at his lap, as Jo poked her head under his shirt, her claws digging into his skin a bit, as she explored the inside of his shirt.

He smiled a little, forgetting about just how crappy his life was right now.

Once he realized he'd calmed down, he blinked.

He'd never tell Nolan, but apparently...

This had been a good idea.

---

Wilson smiled, as he looked up, and saw his friend coming towards him, Jo on his shoulder.

"So how'd it go over with the team?"

House shrugged, "Taub won't be on the same side of the room with her, Thirteen thinks she's cute, and Foreman thinks he's gonna get in trouble with Cuddy for not making me take her home.

Wilson laughed, "did you tell Taub she can't spray?"

House shook his head, smirking, as Jo climbed down into his lap, and put her paws up on the table, sniffing Wilson's lunch.

House let her jump up, but kept her away from the french fries.

Wilson shook his head, and took the lid off his drink, putting a piece of lettuce on it.

Jo ate the lettuce then sort of raised herself up on her hind legs.

It was really quite cute, she kept looking around the cafeteria, staring back when people stared at her.

Wilson wasn't watching Jo, so much as he was watching House watching Jo.

His friend was usually tense, nervous, and irritable, in the cafeteria, with a lot of people there, and a lot of memories.

Now...he wasn't... comfortable, exactly, so much as distracted from his discomfort.

Which was good.

He wasn't freaking out, and he wasn't so close to freaking out that he had to leave before he did freak out, and not eat any lunch.

Foreman came up to the table, holding the file Cameron had brought earlier, "hey. Patient's now clotting instead of bleeding. Any ideas?"

He stopped by the table, and handed the file to House.

House took it, nodding, but stopped, as Foreman looked down, to find Jo's head stuck into his labcoat pocket, her claws in the fabric on either side.

House handed the file to Wilson, and gently pulled her out, putting her in his lap, then taking the file back.

She got back up onto the table almost immediately, and again went for Foreman's pocket, as House pointed to part of the file, and Foreman leaned over to read it.

Wilson smiled into his hand, as Foreman glared down at the skunk, and House once again pulled her away, allowing Foreman to leave.

She made a little hissing noise, but was readily distracted by another piece of Wilson's salad.

House smirked, leaning his elbows on the table, as he watched her sniff at Wilson's soda.

"Wilson?"

"Yeah?"

"I ordered a bed."

Wilson blinked, "you already have a bed. Not that I don't think you could use a new mattress, but–"

House raised his eyes, meeting his friend's brown ones, "Wilson. You've been sleeping on my couch for a month because I wake up screaming in the middle of the night and am not even all that functional during the day. You moved half your stuff into my apartment while I was gone, and you moved the rest in over the last month."

"Yeah..."

"I ordered a bed. It should get here in like a week."

Wilson nodded, slowly.

He still wasn't used to this, the times when House would just look at him, and say what was on his mind, what was bugging him, or what he was thinking. The things he always used to leave for Wilson to try to figure out–and rarely succeed.

It wasn't weird, it was, in fact, perfectly normal behavior, except that it was House doing it.

Jo turned to House, and stomped several times, with her front feet, raising her tail in the back, all the long fur standing up, which was quite an impressive sight.

House rolled his eyes, and took one of Wilson's grapes, and rolled it across the table, apparently much to the amusement of Jo, who bounded after it so enthusiastically she nearly slipped off the table.

House picked it up off the floor, and rolled it the other way.

Jo scampered after it, catching it in her paws just at the end of the table and starting to eat it.

Wilson smiled.

House did as well.

Cuddy came over, high heels clacking as something of an audible warning of her approach.

She didn't look annoyed, though.

She stopped by the table, looking at House.

He looked up at her, gently pulling Jo away from Wilson's slice of chocolate cheesecake, and putting her on his shoulder.

"Can I sit here?"

Wilson blinked, looking at House.

House rolled his eyes, "like I could say no."

Cuddy sighed, pulling up a chair.

"Are you alright?"

House raised an eyebrow, "I assume you're asking about one specific aspect, because you know the answer is no on a general scale."

"Why do you have a skunk?"

"Because I wanted to annoy the team."

She gave him a look.

He sighed, mumbling, "and because Nolan thought an animal might help with the panic attacks, alright?"

She nodded, "good."

He raised an eyebrow, "good?"

"Good that you're trying something."

She was looking at him with that expression, half pity, half loss, that was entirely unbearable.

He picked Jo up, held her out to Cuddy, if only to distract her.

Cuddy reeled back at the sight of Jo's rear facing straight towards her, nearly knocking over her chair.

House laughed, returning Jo to his shoulder, and petting her a bit, "you and Taub... she can't spray."

Cuddy blinked, then slowly sat back down.

She watched House for a while, surprised by the fact that he actually did seem a lot calmer.

She looked at Wilson, who smiled.

Then back at House.

Then got to her feet, "well, I have to get back to work... but..."

She rested a hand on House's shoulder, briefly, seeming about to say something, but then walked away without speaking.

House looked at Wilson, who shrugged, blankly.

House shook his head, and stole one of Wilson's fries.

Wilson smiled, shaking his head.

---

By the time September rolled around, Jo was a bit bigger, a bit more independent, but still clingy enough she didn't mind being carried around and sometimes would pull at House's pants until he sat down, so she could sit in his lap

House had spent the last month freaking out about what he was going to teach–Cuddy had given him a sample curriculum, from the guy who had taught the class last semester, but he was still not sure what the hell he was doing.

Wilson just sat with him, in the evenings, and they went over each class together, what was supposed to get done, how much time there was for off topic discussion each class...

And Jo contributed by sitting on the papers, stomping her feet, and flaring her tail, to get House's attention.

The morning of House's first class came, and he started hyperventilating over breakfast.

"House."

House looked at his friend, as Jo climbed into his lap, and laid down against his stomach.

"You're smarter and you know more than them."

"Yeah..."

He closed his eyes, tried to control his breathing, but it didn't work.

Wilson sighed, and went to get the ativan, but House grabbed his arm, "I'm okay."

Wilson stopped, and came back over to his friend, "Okay," he said, gently, "that's good."

House gave him an annoyed look.

Wilson smiled, "oh, you actually are okay. I thought you were just lying."

House snorted.

Jo stole a bit of egg off House's plate.

---

House stood, awkwardly, outside the lecture hall, a messenger bag sort of thing over his right shoulder with his papers in it, Jo on his left shoulder, tail flared, as though she were picking up on some of his nervousness.

He sighed, and opened the door, limping to the podium.

About twenty students were there, two thirds of the class that was supposed to be here.

He supposed that wasn't too bad, and put his papers on the stand, opening to the attendance sheet.

"Okay... I'm Dr. Gregory House, I've worked in diagnostic medicine for the last ten years, in infectious disease before that, nephrology before that, and I was a Medical Examiner before that. This is Jo. She's a skunk. She's probably smarter than you are, and no, she won't spray anyone. When I call your name, let me know you're here."

He looked down at the list, "Akin."

"Here."

"Andrews."

"Yo."

He finished the a's, the b's, and got to the c's, then looked up, eyes narrowed.

Chase, Robert, M.D. was hardly a medical student.

"Chase."

"Here," said the familiar accent.

House rolled his eyes, "why did you sign up for an intro to diagnostics class? You're board certified."

"CME credits. Figured it'd be an easy A."

House shook his head, "that's typical..." and continued down the list.

By the time he finished going through the list, Jo had climbed down onto the podium, and was sniffing at the microphone.

Her little squeaking noises, amplified by the speakers, make several people laugh.

House snorted, and gently pulled her away, limping to pull the projector screen down, then limping back to the podium, and plugging his laptop into the projector circuit.

"Diagnostics isn't like any other branch of medicine. The focus is different, the knowledge needed is different, and having talent in it is completely different than having talent in any other kind of medicine. You don't cure, treat, or help patients, in diagnostics. You save lives."

He clicked, and checked behind him to make sure the slide went up. Pictures of the MRI, CT, Pathology Lab, and a patient room.

"You trust these, in other kinds of medicine. In diagnostics, all you can trust is yourself. You can be the laziest doctor ever, and still get a diagnosis right–like Dr. Chase back there. Or you can be the most thorough, cautious, moral doctor out there, and still kill your patients. This class is about teaching you the method to diagnostic medicine. But whether you're cut out for it isn't something that can be taught."

He clicked to the next slide, as Jo climbed up his shirt, onto his shoulder.

"This is the schedule..."

He held up a stack of papers, and nodded to one of the students in the front row, "pass these out."

The guy got the papers and started passing them out.

"We'll try to stick pretty closely to it..."

---

House sighed, as he limped out of the classroom, slid down the wall outside it, and started to pet Jo.

That had gone... better than he expected, but less well than he had hoped.

But...

It hadn't gone horribly.

He hadn't freaked out in the middle of the lecture.

The door opened, and he looked up, as someone came out–students weren't supposed to use this door, so he was a bit surprised, though not at who it was.

Chase grinned at him, "you're a lot less boring than the last guy I took this class from."

House rolled his eyes, "did Cuddy tell you to take the class to babysit me?"

Chase shook his head, "no. I'm really just that lazy."

House snorted, watching Jo sniff at Chase's shoes.

"Okay then."

"You want a ride?"

House looked at him, strangely, "you drove? It's like... two hundred feet from the hospital...."

"Did I mention being lazy?" asked Chase, cheerfully.

House rolled his eyes, "yes." Then he shook his head, "I've already got a ride, though."

Chase nodded, "see you on Wednesday, if I don't run into you at the hospital."

House nodded, watching the blond go.

Then he turned back to Jo, who was watching him, head tilted just a little to the side.

He smirked.

"Let's go mooch lunch off Wilson."

He could swear she knew what "lunch" meant, by the way she stomped and flared in response to that statement.

He smirked, and picked her up, heading out to the parking lot between the medical school and hospital.

Wilson was already there, waiting, in his Volvo, "how'd it go?"

House looked at him, then looked at Jo, then looked back at Wilson.

"Good. It went good."

Wilson smiled, leaning across to gently kiss him on the scruffy, stubbly cheek, "I'm glad."

House looked at him, strangely, "did you just..."

Wilson nodded.

House blinked.

Then grinned, just a little bit.

"Okay."

Jo flared her tail, and stomped on House's good leg a few times.

House laughed, "okay, okay. Food first."

Wilson smiled, and put the car into drive.


End file.
